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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22835242">Overblessed Matrimony</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin'>Zeckarin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Guardian Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Humor, Light Angst, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:16:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22835242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The big day is approaching.  But how could anything go smoothly between a very creative and evil deprived demon, four high-on-sugar kids, and a well meaning but awfully clumsy angel ?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anathema Device &amp; Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale &amp; Anathema Device, Aziraphale &amp; Crowley &amp; Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale &amp; Crowley &amp; Anathema Device &amp; Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley &amp; Anathema Device</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Nap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story can absolutely be read as a standalone, but if you want to know how Anathema and Newt got engaged, read "The Very Uggly Engagement Ring". Here's the link:</p><p>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22690219?view_full_work=true</p><p>I am aiming at something very light and funny. But since we're talking about Anathema and Newt, and I know these two are basically writing their own history without my consent,  I can't promise anything !!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Crowley entered the shop, shrugged his coat off, and headed to the back room. He had felt restless for the last few days and knew it was high time to act on it.</p><p>“I think I’m going to nap for at least a week,” he declared matter-of-factly.</p><p>He instantly felt the angel’s stress level shoot up to “very concerned”, and his friend stopped eyeing suspiciously the lone customer who was lurking near the Wilde section, his attention entirely focussed on the demon.</p><p>“Is it the cold?” he asked, teacup disappearing into ether. “Do you feel tired? Can I help?”</p><p>“Whot? No! M’fine, angel ! Really, fine. Just want to sleep, is all.”</p><p>“Oh. Alright then. I will make sure no one bothers you. Maybe I should close the bookshop… the bell <em>is</em> rather loud, I am afraid...”</p><p>Crowley opened his mouth to say that the bell wouldn’t bother him at all when his foggy mind remembered the angel hated to see customers enter his beloved shop.</p><p>“Yeah, that would be nice. But it’s ok, really, angel. Don’t want to bother you...”</p><p>“Oh, pish posh! This is no bother at all!”</p><p><em>That</em> Crowley believed. Aziraphale aimed for the place he’d seen his customer last, and all but marched him out, blabbering something about a gas leak, it seemed.</p><p>“But I wanted to buy this book!” protested the poor man.</p><p>“I am <em>ever</em> so sorry, but the bookshop is closed. Quite permanently. Have a nice day!”</p><p>Crowley smiled tiredly at the man’s offended expression. The angel looked at him and tutted. “Really, dear boy, you should have told me sooner. Look at you! Do you not want to use the bed, for once? It would certainly be comfier than that old couch...”</p><p>“Don’t speak badly of my friend, Ziraphale… I love this couch. T’s my couch,” yawned the demon, collapsing on said furniture with a groan.</p><p>“Oh, well… as you wish.”</p><p>The angel snapped his fingers downward and warm, soft blankets covered the demon while a white-flamed fire came to life in the fireplace. Crowley opened one eye. The blankets were black and red.</p><p>
  <em>Considerate idiot.</em>
</p><p>“Oy, you can’t do that. T’s too comfy. How am I supposed to be pissed at you? Can’t sleep if I’m not a little pissed.”</p><p>Aziraphale let out a long suffering sigh and changed the blankets to tartan. Crowley made a face.</p><p>“Ugh. That’s too much.”</p><p>“Deal with it,” answered the angel sternly, choosing a book on the back-room's shelf before exiting.</p><p>“Is this the invocation of demons book?” yawned his friend, not even opening one eye.</p><p>“It is. I am planning a party with all of Hell’s finest,” declared Aziraphale deadpan.</p><p>“Don’t put the music too loud,” mumbled his friend as he joined Morpheus’s arms.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley yawned, unhinging his jaw, and slowly slithered to the floor. The room was warm and he could feel the miracle that was keeping the fire going. He yawned again, his hand reaching out to pat the coffee table.</p><p>No mug. He sat, stretched his arms and looked at the empty surface. No coffee. You just had to sleep for a few weeks to be forgotten, apparently, thought the demon in bad faith.</p><p>Scrubbing his eyes, he aimed for the door, knocking his shoulders twice on the way. Waking up never had been easy for him. Coffee would have helped, of course, but you couldn’t trust <em>someone</em> to make you coffee when needed nowadays.</p><p>Mean angel.</p><p>“Oh, thank God you’re up!”</p><p>Crowley startled as his friend appeared right before him, wearing a costume he hadn’t seen in a long time. He squinted his eyes.</p><p>“Is that the Blitz outfit?”</p><p>Aziraphale huffed. “Now is not the time for silly questions. I tried to wake you up twice before. Come on, hurry up! It is about to start!”</p><p>“What’ you talkin’ about, you stupid angel?” grumbled the demon sleepily while his friend fussed with his rumpled jacket.</p><p>“Oh, you can not wear that, Crowley. You need to change, hurry up!”</p><p>The demon took a deep breath. “WHY, Aziraphale? What’s happening?” he snapped.</p><p>The angel tutted. “Really, my dear, there is no need to get angry. The wedding. Today is the children’s wedding.”</p><p>The demon blinked, horror invading him as his brain’s gears slowly started to work again. “How long did I sleep?”</p><p>Aziraphale huffed impatiently.</p><p>“Anathema and Newton’s, you silly creature! Now change, ceremony is about to begin. Clothes are very importany on human weddings.”</p><p>"Oh yes," retorted the demon dryly, "You're quite the keen observer of human customs, are you ?"</p><p>Aziraphale straightened his carefully arranged neckcloth. "It appears I am" he answered, trying to look confident.</p><p>“Do I have to enter a bloody <em>church</em>? Without a bloody coffee?”</p><p>The angel shook his head tiredly “Of course, they are <em>dying</em> to marry into a church after everything that happened these last months. Will you stop speaking nonsense for a second and <em>change</em>? I have coffee waiting for you there.”</p><p>With a snap of his fingers, Crowley grudgingly changed into his own 1941 outfit. The angel chuckled.</p><p>“What? At least we match,” grumbled the demon defensively.</p><p>“You look very smart, dear boy. Now off we go.</p><p>This, thought Crowley, as he followed his friend, was not going to be a good day. He couldn’t even try to ruin that wedding…</p><p>He’ll have to find a way to act demonic without making his friends angry. Tough one. But he was a very inventive demon, and loved nothing more than a good challenge.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Mean Demon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley is NOT happy after a long nap.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Anathema was hearing voices getting close. She put the vase in the middle of the last table and smiled.</p><p>“Tadfield Assembly Room? Ugh, and I thought Falling was sinking low...”</p><p>“Joking about <em>this</em> is not funny, Crowley.”</p><p>“It is if it’s me. I can make Fall jokes. I’m <em>Fallen</em>!”</p><p>“Oh for Heav… for God’s sake, <em>drink coffee</em>. You are obnoxious.”</p><p>“Thanks, angel.”</p><p>“This was <em>not</em> a compliment!”</p><p>The witch turned with a wide smile.</p><p>“I thought white wedding dresses cut for six months pregnant women were considered tacky,” was the demon’s greeting as they reached the future bride.</p><p>She eyed him from head to toe with a serene smile. “And <em>I</em> thought you just had some beauty sleep. Doesn’t show at all.”</p><p>“Oy! I’ve never been sexier. You just have no taste in men, is all.”</p><p>Aziraphale sighed, snapped his finger before handing a large cup of coffee to the demon and a tight smile to the bride. “I <em>did</em> warn you, my dear. He is awfully mean after one of his long naps. Do not take it personally.”</p><p>She shrugged, corking an eyebrow in challenge. “I have some steam to release myself. don’t try me, demon.”</p><p>Crowley <em>grinned</em>.</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I will leave you two to your niceties and check on the Them. They are way too quiet, it does not bode well.”</p><p>And with a last pointed look at Crowley that all but shouted “<em>Behave</em>” he aimed for the other side of the room.</p><p>Strangely enough, the Them seemed subdued. They were talking in hushed tones, gathered around Brian.</p><p>“Is anything the matter, children?”</p><p>Four gasps answered him, and the boy hid something behind his back. Aziraphale squinted his eyes. “Can you show me that, Brian, dear?”</p><p>Adam, knowing that tone very well, elbowed his friend. “Show him,” he whispered.</p><p>It was a small bowl… full of sweets. The angel frowned in confusion.</p><p>“Why do you need to hide?”</p><p>“It’s supposed to be for later,” explained Wensley. “Anathema’s mother told us it was for dessert.”</p><p>“But dessert is <em>hours</em> away!” wailed Brian with his best puppy eyes.</p><p>Aziraphale, master of said eyes, was not impressed. His frown deepened as he looked at the bowl, then at the kitchen.</p><p>“Oh, but that will never do… I am afraid I have to interfere, my dears.” He snapped his fingers, and the bowl tripled in volume and filled to the brim with candies.</p><p>“Now, out you go. Have fun. Everyone shall have fun today.”</p><p>“Are these chemical free?” asked Wensley dubiously.</p><p>Aziraphale looked at him blankly, and Adam felt the familiar push of a small miracle.</p><p>“They are,” assured the angel. The children ran away excitedly. Aziraphale heard a chuckle behind him.</p><p>“Saw you. Not very angelic nor responsible behaviour angel.”</p><p>He didn’t even turn around. “Depriving children of sweets. That was the real sin, if you ask me, my dear.”</p><p>“They’re gonna be sick with all that.”</p><p>“Oh, will you stop talking like a nanny. Of course they will not.”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. He felt a <em>little</em> better after his coffee, and the candies wouldn’t really hurt the kids. Plus, seeing Aziraphale helping them defy authority was such a treat he had no desire to argue about it. He wondered if his friend had had enough foresight to predict the obvious sugar rush that would soon hit the four children, and was very eager to see that happen.</p><p>Looking away from the kids, the demon took in the room and the people in it. He didn't recognize most of them, which was weird.</p><p>"Wasn't it supposed to be a <em>small</em> wedding?" he asked with a puzzled frown.</p><p>Aziraphale sighed. "Ah, yes. But apparently Anathema's whole familly wanted to be there and... it got quite out of hand."</p><p>Crowley's frown deepened. "Book girl gave in? <em>Our</em> book girl?"</p><p>"You have never met her mother, dear. Believe me, that woman can be very imposing."</p><p>"Oooh, <em>imposing</em>," gasped the demon with a fake shiver. "That's terrifying!"</p><p>Aziraphale finally turned toward him, and pressed his lips together. “You should find some evil to spread somewhere in Tadfield. You will <em>not</em> ruin this day, my dear, am I making myself clear?”</p><p>The demon’s eyes flashed. “Crystal clear, <em>Sir</em>.”</p><p>“Do you really think today is the right moment to fight, Crowley?”</p><p>“It’s always a right moment to fight, Aziraphale,” snarled the demon.</p><p>His friend watched his retreating back. This was… not very good, to be honest. Crowley was obviously evil deprived. But as long as he was angry at him, he wouldn’t bother anyone else… hopefully.</p><p>Aziraphale just had to give his friend a good idea. Something naughty to do, but nothing in relation to the wedding.</p><p>The angel started to plot evil.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The ceremony would take place in only forty-five minutes, and Crowley already felt restless. Not the usual <em>“everyone is happy and I want to stab someone”</em> restlessness he almost always felt at weddings. A different sort. Something was <em>strange</em>, and it was not only this tickle in his fingers that asked him to<em> ruin it all.</em></p><p>He caught the angel’s eyes and tilted his head before entering the deserted kitchen. Aziraphale joined him immediately.</p><p>“Is something the matter, my dear?”</p><p>“Not sure. Something’s smells weird.”</p><p>The angel sniffed around.</p><p>“Not <em>really</em>. That was a bloody <em>figure of speech</em>, Aziraphale. something’s fishy.”</p><p>“I like fish,” murmured the angel, eyeing longingly the smoked salmon waiting for the wedding’s reception.</p><p>“Angel, <em>work</em> with me here,” growled the demon, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly.</p><p>“Sorry, old chap. What <em>is</em> the matter exactly?”</p><p>“I have no bloody idea. Why do you think I asked for your help?” snapped Crowley, his patience dissolving.</p><p>Aziraphale made a face. “No need to be rude. I assumed you called me because we are a team, not only because you were stuck.”</p><p>“I’m not STUCK! I know what I’m doing!” yelled the demon, looming over his friend, teeth bared.</p><p>“And what is it exactly, pray tell?” answered Aziraphale, his eyes disturbingly <em>blue</em>, not backing out an inch.</p><p>Someone cleared their throat behind them. Both entities turned, one sheepishly, the other with a snarl.</p><p>“Oh, hello Deirdre. Nice day, hm? Gotta go.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Antichrist’s mother watched that dear Mr Crowley storm out of the room without a glance at his husband. Mr Aziraphale sighed.</p><p>“I am really sorry. I didn’t mean to pry...” assured the woman with wide eyes.</p><p>The fair man smiled and waved her concern away. “Oh, not to worry my dear. I will find something to… make it all better. Everything is fine. Absolutely tickety boo!”</p><p>And he hurried out, frowning.</p><p><em>Oh, dear me</em>, thought Deirdre young, awfully worried. <em>What happened between them?</em></p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In case you didn't read the story where it happened:Deirdre Young is convinced Aziraphale and Crowley are married.<br/>They are not^^</p><p>Sooooo to sum up :<br/>Crowley is grumpy.<br/>Aziraphale is plotting.<br/>Deirdre is worried.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. R.P. Tyler</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Aziraphale tries his best to help his friend spread some evil away from the wedding party, and Deirdre Young decides to do something to help her son's godfather reconcile.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic has been my greatest shame this last year.<br/>Almost A YEAR since my last update. I just never seem to find a good idea for it. So today, I rolled up my sleeves and decided that if ideas didn't want to come to me, I was going to start writing WITHOUT THEM.<br/>Guess what? It pissed them off and they arrived almost immediately.<br/>Last chapter will be posted BEFORE next year. :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Deirdre was calling her husband in an urgent whisper, beckoning him from the kitchen's door. “Arthur! <em>ARTHUR</em>!”</p><p>Mr. Young, talking with Anathema’s father and uncle, turned to her, unlit pipe in hand. “Hmm? What is it, Deirdre?”</p><p>One look at his fuming wife was enough for the man. Eighteen years of marriage were more than enough to know when something needed to be addressed <em>right now,</em> <em>in private</em>. With a genial smile, he excused himself and headed to the kitchen.</p><p>“There is something wrong with Adam’s godfathers,” shot his wife as soon as the door closed behind him.</p><p>“Mr. Aziraphale and Crowley? What happened?” asked Arthur with slight alarm. He rather liked the two men. Especially Crowley, who was a vintage car enthusiast like him. They both had, he thought, a good influence on Adam. The boy was a little less prone to mischief since the two men had come back from whatever far away country they had been living for the first eleven year of his life.</p><p>Of course, the fact that Adam spent a week-end a month with them in London, and that the two men were always coming to Tadfield to spend an afternoon with him on the three other weeks was, perhaps, a way to explain the singular decrease in complaints from a certain R.P.Tyler.</p><p>“I don’t know, but they are fighting. They’re really angry at each other, Arthur, what can we <em> do </em>?”</p><p>Mr. Young shrugged. “Nothing. They’ll be fine. It’s not our business anyway.”</p><p>Deirdre glared. “They are our friends! We have to help them, Arthur!”</p><p>“I wouldn’t like someone poking their nose in our lives if we were fighting, and I don’t think they would either. They’ve been married longer than us two, they certainly know how to figure it out without help,” said her husband absent-mindedly, looking around in search of something to nibble.</p><p>“Don’t touch any of it, Arthur! We spent hours working on it yesterday, and you will wait until after the ceremony like everyone else!” snapped Deirdre, slipping him the mozzarella and onion bun she’d put aside for him when she’d been preparing the trays with Anathema and her mother*.</p><p>Patting his pockets to find his matchbox, he wandered away. Deirdre sighed. Of course her husband wouldn’t want to interfere. But who else could help her? Young Miss Device was getting married today, and she didn’t know anyone else being close to Adam’s “uncles”.</p><p>*Newt had been banned from the kitchen after half an hour, and had spent the rest of the day preparing the reception room by setting up the tables and chairs and handling “everything that wasn’t breakable”.</p><p> </p><p>“I will have to take care of it myself,” she huffed, heading out in search of her son. Maybe Adam would have an idea of the reason behind the fight.</p><p>Of course, Arthur’s reasoning wasn’t wrong, and for anyone else she would gladly stand back and let things settle on their own.</p><p>But Mr. Crowley and Mr. Aziraphale were always so <em> blissfully </em> happy together, constantly using pet names and doing little gestures for each other all day long, seeing them at odds was much more concerning than yelling and smashing dishes would be from any other couple.</p><p>She had to do something.</p><p>Squaring her shoulders, an unusual stern expression on her face, Deirdre Young started to look for the Antichrist.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Aziraphale didn’t have to think too long about a solution to his actual problem.</p><p>How to prevent an evil-starved demon from ruining their friend's wedding? By giving him someone else to focus on.</p><p>It has to be stated here that using a sentient being as bait to deflect demonic activities was <em> not </em> angelic behaviour, and that Aziraphale would never even <em> start </em> to entertain such an awful idea.</p><p>Mr. Tyler’s appearance at the entry of the assembly room had <em> nothing </em>to do with a miracle, and if the man still had his slippers on, then it was probably an oversight on his part.</p><p>The man’s eyes widened and he looked around confusedly for a second, before frowning sternly.</p><p>R.P.Tyler was a no-nonsense sort of man. Appearing two miles from home in the blink of an eye was impossible, therefore it did not happen, and R.P. Tyler had chosen to come here for a good reason.</p><p>It only took four and a half seconds for him to find said reason. And some more. Straightening up like an oversized rooster about to salute sunrise, he glared at the bride-to-be before marching straight to her, condemnation written on his every feature.</p><p>“Young lady!” he exclaimed, making several people turn to him in surprise. “What is the meaning of all this? <em> Black </em> ribbons and tablecloths for a wedding? Is that a <em> pentagram </em>?*”</p><p>Anathema turned around. She wasn’t the kind to get bothered easily, and usually was ready to give as much as she got, but she hadn’t slept, wanted to throw up (she was going to find whoever said it disappeared after the first trimester and <em> strangle </em> them) and had been dealing with her mother and uncle’s constant criticism for the last two days. And it was <em> her wedding day </em>.</p><p>*It was. Newt had been very thorough in decorating, trying to find the most tacky witchy ideas possible to make his future wife laugh**. Anathema had taken one look at the result and dragged him to the nearest broom closet for a trully memorable snogging session.</p><p>** Anathema’s mother, bless her soul, <em> was </em> a handful. Newt’s betrothed was so tense he was afraid she would snap soon.</p><p> </p><p>“I will not stay silent in face of such a mockery! You Americans can all pack up and get back to-”</p><p>“Hello, Sir,” interrupted a smooth voice in his ear.</p><p>R.P.Tyler froze on the spot. He knew that voice.</p><p>“What a pleasant surprise,” crooned Crowley, lowering his glasses to catch his eyes.</p><p>The man gasped, recognition hitting. “YOU! You were the one with the <em> car </em>!”</p><p>The demon bared his teeth in what looked like a smile if you squinted a lot. “I am afraid a lot of people fit that description. Can you be more specific?”</p><p>R.P.Tyler snarled haughtily. Crowley felt begrudgingly impressed. It was a good snarl.</p><p>“I should have expected some hooligans to be invited! I told the city council we had to keep an eye on Jasmine cottage’s tenant, but did they listen to me?”</p><p>“I imagine they didn’t,” chuckled Crowley, who perfectly knew that Deirdre was an influential member of said council.*</p><p>*She was intelligent, practical, very good at debate, and made the best apple pie in a forty miles radius. The only reason she wasn’t Tadfield’s mayor was she never applied. She already had a part-time job and was raising two children, one of them an Antichrist, thank you very much.</p><p> </p><p>“They certainly will now!” glowered R.P. “Pentagrams! In our community! This is not to be borne!”</p><p>“And that’s only the decoration,” said Crowley thoughtfully. “I bet the fireworks will be frowned upon, with us not asking for permission and all that. This city’s so stuffy...”</p><p>Mr. Tyler’s eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets. Crowley watched in interest at a vein throbbing on his temple.</p><p>“FIREWORKS?” yelled the man.</p><p>Crowley shrugged casually, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, t’s just outside, in the field. It will be awesome, we took all the big ones in the store.”</p><p>“Lead me to it immediately! This is the last straw! This wedding will not take place if I have a say in it, mark my words!”</p><p>Face an angry red, R.P.Tyler headed out, shooting an imperious glare at Crowley.</p><p>Smiling, the demon followed lazily. He felt better already. Negative emotions were like a balm to his vile-deprived brain. </p><p>He made a mental note of always having a Mr. Tyler at hand after one of his longish naps.</p><p>Near the entry, Aziraphale smiled as he watched his friend follow the annoying human. Crowley had that telling glint in his eyes that always bode of some kind of Hell about to unleash onto someone. He nodded to himself, idly looking around to check on hypothetical rodents. He didn’t think Crowley would go so far as to enrol his personal army on their friend’s big day, but better safe than sorry.</p><p>Reassured, he turned back to his work, the kitchen knife gleaming in his hand as he sliced the oranges with smooth, rapid movements that belied a long practice at handling sharp, cutting objects.</p><p>No cocktail would be perfect without an orange slice. And this day <em> would </em> be perfect, if he had any say in it.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am starting on last chapter already. My stupid brain is whispering to "add another chapter. Just one..." but I won't listen this time!<br/>Anathema and Newt deserve to get married! They wanted a short engagement and I made them wait soooo long already.^^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Wedding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley comes back from his refreshing stroll to discover his presence wasn't required for things to get out of hands.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I feel both so ashamed and so proud to finish this fic.<br/>It took a WHOLE YEAR!<br/>It feels very good to post last chapter.<br/>Hope you will like it!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Crowley idly followed Mr. Tyler, shoulders unclenching a little more with each spiteful remark on the man’s part. By the time they reached the middle of the field, the demon was slouching in his usual posture, feeling better than he had since he’d awakened.</p><p>Narrow-minded, entitled humans always had been fun to hang around, if only for the hilarity of it. And their auras and emotions were just a delight to his demonic soul.</p><p>“… and I knew that there would be trouble as soon as I recognised you today!” ranted Mr. Tyler with a glare.</p><p>Crowley hadn’t seen him since Armageddon, and started to realise this wasn’t a coincidence. People like Tyler would have been aware of two strange married* men coming to the village twice a week to visit their godson.</p><p>*Tricking Deirdre Young into believing they were married had been one of Crowley’s most flagrant examples of an evil plan coming back to bite him in the arse.</p><p> </p><p>He should have been breathing down their necks for <em>months</em>.</p><p>
  <em>Another frivolous miracle, Aziraphale? Didn’t want me to rock the boat in Tadfield?</em>
</p><p>Crowley chuckled fondly. That angel was such a cheater.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Half an hour later, the empty cars were all lined up for the wedding procession.</p><p>Crowley, having misplaced R.P. Tyler in the middle of nowhere, basked in the afterglow of a demonic job well done as he strolled back to the venue. He paused next to the Bentley, waiting in her parking spot like the good girl she was, and patted her hood with a smile. Behind him, a high pitched honk greeted him. He turned and raised an eyebrow at Dick Turpin, pulling over next to the Bentley.</p><p>Newt and Anathema had bought a sensible car once they’d discovered they were going to welcome a new family member, but the young witch-finder had insisted that Dick Turpin be their wedding car.</p><p>Every book was very clear about the fact that the groom’s demands held next to no weight on a wedding day, but Anathema had backed her fiancé up, and she was the <em>bride</em>.</p><p>“Running away already?” joked the demon as the gangly young man extricated himself from the car.</p><p>“Mom and I were dropping some flowers at the cottage,” said Newt with a beam, helping his mother out of the car.</p><p>Mrs. Pulsifer wore a long green dress and a gentle smile. She beamed at the demon, and Crowley pouted internally. He had met the woman already (she was there every other weekend) and she was a soft-spoken, sweet little lady with a gift for ruining even the easiest dish and endless supplies of love and admiration for her son. Another nice human he’d probably get too attached to if he didn’t take care.</p><p>Tadfield was a real minefield in the heartbreak department.</p><p>“Where is everyone?” asked Newt, blinking behind his glasses as he looked at the deserted parking lot.</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Inside, probably. The cars are all here.”</p><p>The groom-to-be frowned. “Strange.”</p><p>With a bang, Tadfield Assembly Room’s door opened, and Anathema’s uncle, red faced, looked around, eyes stopping on Newt, and yelled “I found him!”</p><p>Anathema’s father hurried outside. “Come quick, Newton, she needs you!” he said urgently.</p><p>Newt gasped and hurried to him. “What is wrong? Is it the baby? Is Anathema all right?”</p><p>Crowley stood frozen for a second, feeling oddly detached. He had lived this moment before. Heaps of times, even. That’s why he never let himself get too close.</p><p>But Anathema… the witch was such a great lass. And she was <em>pregnant</em> (which was a very concerning state to get yourself in, in the demon’s opinion). He <em>was</em> attached, bless it all, and he didn’t want to enter that building and hear the news, whatever it was.</p><p>A warm hand clutched his elbow and he looked to his left. Mrs. Pulsifer’s, ashen faced, was looking at her son’s retreating back.</p><p>“Is Anathema all right?” she asked in anguish.</p><p>Crowley felt his panic melt away. They couldn’t be <em>both</em> panicking, right?</p><p>“Hey, I’m sure everything’s fine,” he said.</p><p>Aziraphale was there, he reminded himself. <em>Of course</em> book girl was fine. The demon reached out and patted the woman’s hand awkwardly. It was Newt’s mother, he reminded himself, and she was clearly panicking. He had to try and help her, since there was no one else around to do it for him (and he took a mental note to sulk about it later. This was clearly <em>angelic</em> work. The Arrangement was <em>over</em>, for Someone’s sake!)</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m sure everyone is all right. Weddings are always stressful, it’s probably just the punch being too sugary or something like that,” he lied, leading her to the door.</p><p>There was <em>no one </em>outside, which meant everyone was <em>in</em>, and it was <em>not</em> normal at all.</p><p>Everyone was indeed inside, looking at the kitchen door. Seeing neither angel nor bride, Crowley headed there, ignoring the urgent gestures of the guests trying to convey that he should <em>not</em> enter there.</p><p>Anathema was seated in a chair, face in her hands. Behind her, stone-faced, Aziraphale was standing straight, one hand lightly touching the bride’s shoulder. Crowley knew that expression very well. It was full on Principality mode, and the angel was on the brink of a full-on smiting.</p><p>Way to put a damper on a wedding.</p><p>Tucking the idea away for another time (because an avenging angel losing his shit at <em>any</em> other wedding would be a blast), Crowley turned to Newt, who was crouching near his girlfriend.</p><p>“An, what’s wrong?”</p><p>“Nothing!” assured Anathema’s mother hurriedly. “Just hormones, no worry. Go prepare the car, Newton, City Hall is expecting us in fifteen minutes. She will be right behind. I am taking care of this.”</p><p>She made a shooing motion that Newt didn’t seem to notice. “An? Talk to me.”</p><p>The witch shook her head, avoiding his eyes. Aziraphale’s voice broke the heavy silence that was threatening to settle.</p><p>“I am afraid dear Anathema is having second thoughts, Newton,” he said softly. “And it is nothing to be ashamed of, my dear,” he added to the girl’s attention, his hand tightening slightly on her shoulder.</p><p>The witch bit her lip, still looking away from her boyfriend. Newt’s eyes widened.</p><p>“Oh... Is it… is it true? You don’t want to get married after all?” he asked slowly.</p><p>“I don’t know,” murmured Anathema, finally meeting his eyes. “I mean, <em>of course</em> I want to spend my life with you, I <em>love</em> you, Newt, I do. But it’s all so much, and I’m hideous, and we’re going to have a baby, we should focus on that, not on a stupid wedding! It’s all so...”</p><p>She took a sharp intake of breath and tears rolled down her cheeks.</p><p>“Overwhelming,” said Newt seriously. Anathema nodded.</p><p>“A wedding is <em>always</em> overwhelming, sweet pie,” said Mrs. Device in a soft voice. “Of course you want to get married. Agnes said Newton was your one love, you don’t want to disappoint her, do you? All the family is here for it, and we’re so very proud of you. Now let’s head to the bathroom and wash your face, and everything will be just lovely, you’ll see.”</p><p>Newt frowned. “We can cancel the wedding if you want, An. It’s not a problem.”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” cut Mrs. Device kindly. “Everything is settled. It is <em>written</em>. You are going to have a <em>baby</em> together. Anathema, stop this nonsense, you <em>love</em> him!”</p><p>The witch looked up and met her mother’s stern eyes. “Good. That’s my brave girl. There is no reason to cry, honey. Now get up, I’ll help you prepare.”</p><p>Anathema hesitated, then nodded slightly. Newt looked from one woman to the other with the face of a colour-blind bomb tech confronted with a red and a green wire and having to cut one in the next three seconds.</p><p>“That’s <em>Bollocks</em>!” declared a sharp voice.</p><p>Everyone turned to nice Mrs. Pulsifer. She was glaring daggers at the bride’s mother.</p><p>“What in the world is <em>wrong</em> with you? Your daughter is clearly upset and you are trying to push her to do your bidding? It’s <em>her</em> wedding! She is <em>pregnant</em>! She is your <em>child</em>! How can you even <em>talk</em> to her like this? They wanted a small gathering and you invited sixty <em>fucking</em> seven persons! They agreed to it because they wanted to <em>please</em> you! And that’s how you thank them?”</p><p><em>Hell hath no fury like a protective mother</em>, thought Crowley, watching as the frail lady grabbed Mrs. Device’s arm and steered her out of the room. She whirled around and pinned her son with a steely look. “It is <em>your</em> decision, Anathema, Newton. There is no problem at all in cancelling. Don’t you worry about the guests, we will all support you whatever you decide to do.”</p><p>Crowley watched in awe. He had the feeling that, had he been able to fall in love, now would have been the right time.</p><p>Newt gently took Anathema’s hand in his. “She’s right. We don’t have to marry at all. We can go home and let my mum handle everything if you want. We will watch a series and I’ll give you a foot massage. How does that sound?”</p><p>The witch let out a wet laugh. “But I want to <em>marry</em> you. I want to call you my husband and make you take the trash out on Fridays.”</p><p>“It’s on Tuesdays and I’m already the one doing it,” said Newt with a little smile. “You always put it out too late or too early.”</p><p>“See? You’re perfect. I really want to marry you, Newton. I guess it <em>was</em> the hormones after all.”</p><p>Aziraphale cleared his throat. Both humans looked at him. Crowley raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“My dear girl, if I may… you were quite enthusiastic about all this these last weeks, and up until two days ago. I know you love Newton very much, there is no doubt about that, I rarely have sensed such a perfect connection. But you started to feel upset after your family’s arrival. Do you think that maybe that is the problem here?”</p><p>The witch blushed. “They’re all so <em>proud</em> about it. Talking about the prophecies, about the baby too, saying that it’s all Agnes’ will, like nothing about all this is my decision! My mother invited them all because our wedding is the <em>final prophecy</em> and she feels like every Device should be there to watch it! I don’t even <em>know</em> half of them! It doesn’t feel like our special day anymore! I chose Newton, and I chose my life here, but they’re all--”</p><p>The angel nodded sadly. “Yes. I imagine hundreds of years as professional descendants, the secrets and power that Agne’s book brought, all that is a really easy way to turn a whole family into, well…”</p><p>“Overbearing arses?” provided Crowley.</p><p>Aziraphale tutted. “I would not go that far.”</p><p>“Everything was so much simpler when we were planning it, just the two of us,” sighed Anathema, squeezing Newt’s fingers. She straightened her shoulders and nodded firmly. “But it’s fine. I know what I want, and I know <em>why</em> I want it. It has nothing to do with Agnes. It’s our lives. Let’s get married.”</p><p>“Or...” drawled Crowley.</p><p>Three pairs of eyes turned to him. He pointed to the kitchen’s window, who suddenly found itself larger than it remembered. The demon snapped his fingers, and the latch clicked open.</p><p>Newt looked at Anathema.</p><p>Anathema looked at Newt.</p><p>They smiled at the same time.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Crowley headed out of the kitchen with the face of the cat having not only got the cream, but the whole pantry. Multiple arguments stopped dead as every guest turned to him with bated breath.</p><p>Crowley grinned like a shark. “Good news, everyone! We can open the champagne, there will be no ceremony for us all. The bride and groom just eloped, and I’ve no idea as to where! They will be back for the dinner and party, as Mr. and Mrs. Pulsifer!”*</p><p>*That was a hard blow. A Device did NOT change her name. This was the best middle finger Anathema could have come up with. It would be difficult to explain to Pepper, though.</p><p> </p><p>Eighty-three gasps echoed through the room.</p><p>Mrs Pulsifer beamed. “Good for them!”</p><p>Crowley turned to his friend, watching it all from the kitchen’s door with a smug smile and a cup of tea.</p><p>“I think I want to marry her,” he murmured to the angel.</p><p>Aziraphale took a sip of Darjeeling.</p><p>“Please reconsider, dear boy. What would poor Deirdre think?”</p><p>Deirdre was thinking a lot of things, none of them including Mr. Crowley's potential bigamy. She was happy for that wonderful young Anathema and her adorable boyfriend, and didn't even feel upset about missing the wedding. The Devices had been getting on everybody's nerves in the last few days, and watching their outraged expression was something she wouldn't have exchanged for the world. Even Arthur, who was the most oblivious man Deirdre had ever met, was hiding a smile.</p><p>She shot a look to Mr. Aziraphale and Crowley. They were both talking softly, and Mr. Aziraphale chuckled at something his husband said. Deirdre blinked in confusion. They seemed... perfectly happy, as usual.</p><p>"See?" asked Adam next to her. "Told you they were fine. They just like to fight for fake, like me and Pepper."</p><p>Deirdre squinted at her son. He looked way too smug to her liking.</p><p>She was <em>so</em> relieved he'd been right.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Tadfield friends and Newt's mother had been witnessing Anathema's mother and uncle harass her about the smallest detail for days. They're all very happy she decided to stand up to them.</p><p>Anathema's family didn't stay for the dinner and party. Relations between Mrs. Device and our favorite occultist are very tense since. But they've started to talk (yell) to each other again after the baby's birth.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Where is this all going?<br/>Don't look at me ! I have NO idea !<br/>They decided to get married yesterday night, I'm just... going with the flow here 😆</p></blockquote></div></div>
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